A Taste of the Supernatural
by Shadewolf7
Summary: ON HOLD
1. Trouble in Colorado

_Stargate and Supernatural do not belong to me. I severely doubt they ever will. I'm hoping for something original, here… I haven't found any SG-1 Supernatural crossovers yet... although I haven't been actively looking. Maybe references to episodes, but not planning on spoilers... will warn if spoilers appear. Set during indeterminate time during the early seasons of Stargate and first-season Supernatural._

_Reviews welcomed, ideas taken into account. Some ideas very helpful...? Pretty please? Second story ever!_

**A Taste of the Supernatural**

Flash. _Circle covered in strange symbols and filled with standing water... _Something was wrong with that image. Flash. _A woman walking down the street with her Commanding Officer, suddenly slammed against the brick on the other side of the road._ Flash. _Blood. Pain. Death!_

"Sam! Sammy! Wake up!"

He distantly felt something shaking him and slowly opened his eyes. Bleary brown blinked up at worried green, "Dean?" he asked faintly, struggling to sit up.

His brother instantly eased a hand beneath his shoulders, helping him up and making sure he was securely braced against the headboard of the bed in yet another run-down motel. "You OK?"

Sam considered the level of headache he was currently running and grimaced slightly, "Yeah. I'm fine."

The elder of the Winchester brothers moved from crouching before his brother to sitting on the edge of his own bed, "Dude, Sam, you've gotta quit doing this to me! You just start thrashing around and groaning… it sounds like someone's killing you. Literally."

A pause during which Sam struggled to think lengthened uncomfortably.

Dean sighed, "What was it?"

His brother just looked up with a pained expression and a heavy breath, "I don't know. It was all… confused. All I know is that there was a big stone circle thing filled with water—and _standing on its side_ with nothing holding the water in it. Then this woman and a colonel get attacked by something while walking down the street and I woke up."

"O...K. Any ideas as to where?"

Sam eyed his brother with mild surprise.

"Dude, we both know we can't ignore your Shining."

Sam grunted, "Colorado... near the old missile silo in Cheyenne Mountain."

"Uh… Sam… that's a military base, now."

"I know."

"Well. This should be interesting."

xxxx

They'd been driving for several hours when Sam's 'Shining' struck again, a lot harder.

He shook his head slightly and pressed the heel of his hand against his forehead. "Gah," he whimpered, clutching at his skull.

Dean glanced over, "Sammy? You OK?"

He was not given any response as Sam hunched forward, gasping in pain. The gasp turned to a soft groan as Sam collapsed against the dashboard, Dean immediately pulling the Impala over. "Sam!"

Sam cried out shortly and started shaking, long, wracking shudders that looked like they were going to tear him apart.

"Sam!"

Flash. _The woman getting thrown across the street into a heavy brick wall, the man she was with spinning and finding himself instantly impaled with a thick metal bar that flies off the alley's floor. He looks up for a moment and crumples to the ground, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth._

"Sam! Come on, Sammy, don't do this to me!" Dean's voice, almost frantic.

Sam vaguely realized that he was shaking and huddling against the dashboard, his head pounding as though it were being crushed and his chest still feeling the metal that had been rammed through the stranger's heart.

"Sammy!" He felt Dean's hand shift from his shoulder to his throat, checking his pulse.

Very slowly, Sam looked up.

"Shit, Sam, what happened?" Dean grabbed both Sam's shoulders and turned his brother to face him, noting the blood trickling from his brother's nose. "Sammy?" He used the nickname in hopes of getting some kind of response that would tell him his little brother was OK.

Instead, Sam jerked over and started coughing, a thick, wet sound.

"Damnit, Sam! I'm taking you to a hospital!"

"No--Dean, we have to stop it."

"Stop _what,_ Sam? These visions are killing you!"

"If we don't get to Colorado, those people will _die,_ Dean! Please!" Sam chose to ignore the part about the visions killing him. He was afraid Dean might be right--each one was a bit worse than the last--and this time, it wasn't just his head that was affected.

Dean's head jerked a little, his expression pained. "Fine. But if this happens again..."

_I won't be in any shape to stop you._

Dean restarted the car and began to drive, each little jounce sending flashes of white-hot agony through Sam's body and he coughed again, nearly passing out from the pain. He quickly turned his head towards the window when he tasted blood in his mouth. _Damn. This is bad... Maybe I should let Dean--_he couldn't even finish the thought before a brief flash-scene from the vision invaded his mind. Somehow, Sam knew it was a warning. _Or not._

"Sammy?"

Sam fumbled a tissue from the glove compartment and wiped his mouth and nose before glancing at his brother. "It's Sam."

He caught Dean's small smile, and was glad that had reassured his older brother at least a little. It was going to be hard to keep his condition a secret if another vision hit, though...

"Right, Sammy. Whatever you say."

"Dean--" Sam gave up before even finishing that sentence. "Never mind."

Green eyes flicked in his direction, forehead creased with worry.

"I'll be OK, Dean. It's just a headache."

"Sam. With you, there's no such thing as 'just' a headache."

Sam decided to ignore that, but it was a measure of Dean's concern that he turned off his Metallica and hadn't made one comment about bleeding on the leather. "Thanks," he said after a moment.

"Just try to get some sleep, Sammy. I need you strong."


	2. Meetings in Dark Alleys

The names may start to get a little confusing, as we have Samantha Carter and Samuel Winchester, both called Sam, but I'll do my best...

xxxx

_"Just try to get some sleep, Sammy. I need you strong._

xxxx

_Nearly there,_ Dean thought, casting a quick glance at his little brother. Yup. Sammy was still out cold... the kid never got enough sleep. On the up-side, they were in Colorado and nearing their destination--whatever that was.

Dean had a problem to mull over: how the heck were they going to figure out who they were supposed to be helping? It's not like they could waltz up to Cheyenne Mountain and ask for rooms. Oh, they'd get rooms, all right, guarded ones with no windows and bars on the door, if what the old man had said was right: _"There used to be a missile in that old silo, but it's long gone. Now it's a military base--top secret, if what I've heard is correct."_

How his Dad had found out about that one was a mystery. Unless they were toying around with the supernatural...?

A soft groan interrupted his thoughts and he looked over to his passenger. "Sammy?"

"It's _Sam,_ Dean," the little brother in question straitened and winced slightly, "Ow. Remind me never to sleep like that again."

Dean went back to watching the road with a smirk, "We're almost there, Sammy-boy. Or we would be, if we knew where we were going."

Instead of answering the unspoken question, Sam groaned softly.

"Just... find us a motel or something..."

Dean's concern spiked at the lack of comeback to the 'Sammy-boy' jibe, but kept his mouth shut and focused on finding them a place to stay. If, and only if, it became necessary, would Dean risk a 'Chick-Flick Moment' by asking what was wrong.

xxxx

_Several hours later..._

"So, Sam, whatcha got going on in that lab-thing of yours?" One Colonel Jack O'Neill asked his astrophysicist Major--pun intended.

A faint smile crossed Major Carter's lips as she narrowed her eyes, "Nothing."

"Not 'nothing'. You and Danny have been holed up in there for days. What's going on?"

Sam shook her head, "Sorry, sir, but you'll have to ask Daniel."

"I _did_ ask Daniel," Jack groused, "He wouldn't tell me."

"It's nothing important, sir. Daniel just has an idea that we're testing.

"Nothing. Right. Carter, Danny's ideas... they kinda tend to involve scary stuff."

Sam's smile widened as she steadfastly refused to tell, "I can't say, sir. I promised."

"Sam..." The Colonel's groan was well worth all the work she and Daniel had been doing.

Honestly, though, it was nothing important--and it wasn't even the _lab_ they were using. It was just something Daniel had wanted to do, cross-referencing legends from Earth against some of those on other planets they'd been to, to see where he could piece together a bit more of the human\Goa'uld history... If the Colonel _did_ find out, he'd be bored senseless within five minutes of the explanation.

She paused outside one of the buildings, "This is my stop, sir."

"Right. Remember, we leave at 0900 hours!"

"Yes, sir. Goodnight."

"'Night, Sam!" The Colonel started to turn away when something _shifted_ and Sam felt herself start to get dragged towards the alley to the side of the building.

"Carter!" Jack sprang after her, wondering what the hell was happening. Sam was obviously being dragged and equally obviously not being touched by anything visible.

She was lifted off the ground and slammed into the far wall as a metal bar lifted itself off the ground and launched itself at Jack.

xxxx

Sam jerked upright and looked around, focusing on a nearby street, "Dean. Turn here."

"Wha...?" the elder brother was confused.

"Turn here," Sam insisted, and Dean shrugged.

"All right, Sammy... something set off your spidey-senses?"

Sam glanced sideways at his brother, "Yeah."

"Great."

"Dean. Just drive." Sam watched for what he _felt_ was wrong--there. The two from his vision, nearing the alley they were going to be attacked in--"Dean! That's them!"

In the instant it took to pull the car up near the alley, the woman had been snatched and the metal bar began to lift itself off the ground.

Sam launched himself out of the car without waiting for it to finish stopping and tackled the man to the ground. The bar buried itself halfway into the brick over his head.

"What the--?" The man gasped from his position beneath the younger Winchester, who rolled sideways and half-turned towards the Impala.

"Sam!" Something flew through the air at him, tossed by his brother, and stopped dead mid-air.

"Dean! Shoot!"

The elder Winchester wasted no time in grabbing the other shotgun and sending rock salt scattering through the air. The woman dropped free of the wall and Sam grabbed the Colonel and dragged him to his feet, "Run!"

Instead of obeying, the man turned to the other, "Carter! You OK?"

"Fine, sir," she choked out as Dean grabbed her arm and forcibly dragged her out of the alley--"Get in," he ordered, shoving her towards the car.

"Go!" Sam gasped, trying to do the same with the Colonel as he stumbled towards the sawed-off shotgun that had landed on the asphalt, hoping it wasn't damaged. He grabbed it and got into the car himself as the rescue-ees scrambled into the backseat.

"Sam. You OK?" Dean.

"I'm fine," he said shortly, "It's still there. We have to move."

Dean pulled away from the curb and started down the street, "Hey," Dean said after a moment, directing his words towards the two in the backseat. "Someplace we can drop you guys off?"

"Hold it," the man said, "Just--hold it. Who the heck are you people? And what are we doing in your car?"

"Well," Dean shrugged, "I'm Dean. The guy who just saved your ass is my brother, Sam. We saw you were in trouble and decided to help out."

"Right. And you just _happened_ to have a couple of shotguns filled with who-knows-what on hand."

"Rock salt," Sam muttered.

"What?"

Sam twisted to look at the woman, mildly surprised that she'd said anything. "Rock salt?"

"Why rock salt? Who loads a shotgun with _salt_?"

Dean sighed in exasperation and pulled over. "Look, either tell me where you want to go or get out of my car." He was trying _very_ hard to be civil, but the man wasn't making it easy for him.

"Sir, we should probably head back to base and see what we can find out about this," the woman said softly.

"Right. Would you take us back to The Mountain, or should I call a taxi?"

Dean looked over his shoulder to the people in the backseat. "I'll take you if you tell me who you are."

"I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill, at your service. This is Major Samantha Carter," Jack waved at his second in command.

"Nice to meet you," Dean turned back as though they were of no further interest, glancing over to his brother, who was pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead, "How do I get to 'The Mountain?'"

"You-"

"Sam?" Dean cut off the Major without even registering that she'd started to tell him, watching his brother's face.

"Gah, Dean--I think--Ahh!" he cried out and hunched forward, head clutched between his hands.

"Sam! Dammit, Sammy, not now!"

"What the?" Jack leaned forward as though to grab the boy's shoulder, but Dean slapped his hand away.

"Don't touch him!"

"What's happening?" Carter sounded concerned, as well she might.

Dean ignored her, "Sam! Come on, Sammy, snap out of it!" Sammy's visions didn't usually last this long.

Sam crumpled against the dash and Dean grabbed his shoulders, turning his brother to face him. "Aw, Sammy..."


	3. Uh, oops

Well... this will be a short chapter. Working on getting up a longer one sometime this weekend.

xxxx

_Dark. Cold. So very, very cold... voices. Distant, meaningless... where was he? Eyes opened, but the scene didn't change. Just cold and dark and silent. No sense of danger, of evil, just empty chill._

"Sam!"

_Something different, tickling the edge of consciousness past the icy dark, a vague awareness of warmth and sound and pain._

"Come on, Sammy, snap out of it!"

_The voice is not so distant, this time, and one he recognized. It was afraid... but that voice was never afraid. Who was Sammy?_ Then it clicked somewhere in the post-vision shut-down brain. _Dean's voice._

Reality came crashing back and, with it, pain. Sam felt himself fall forward only in the most distant part of his mind, as most of his attention was centered on the blinding agony in his head and the fire in his lungs. He barely heard his brother's next remark.

"Aw, Sammy..."

xxxx

In the back seat, Jack and Carter exchanged glances, thoroughly confused.

"What the hell is wrong with him, kid?" Jack demanded.

He was ignored.

"Sam-Sammy. Come on, kiddo, talk to me." Dean's attention was so completely focused on his brother that he wouldn't have noticed if a Wendigo snatched the passengers out of the backseat. He certainly didn't notice their low conversation as they discussed what to do about these witnesses to an alien event.

After a moment, Sam raised his head a little, blinking bleary eyes up at his brother.

Dean drew in a hissing breath, "Shit, Sammy..." He'd seen the red on his little brother's face, but thought it was all from a nosebleed... now it was clear that a fresh trickle came from the corner of his mouth. "I gotta get you to a hospital, buddy."

Sam shook his head, "N-Dean, no," he panted, "Please." He shifted a little as Dean's hand found his pulse, measuring the staccato beat.

"Sammy, this is bad."

"I know that, Dean!" Sam reigned in his temper, forced himself to breathe deeply.

Big mistake.

He jerked forward and started coughing blood. Dean did his best to steady him, and eventually the spasms died away, leaving the young hunter drained and weary.

"What was it?"

Sam leaned forward, cradling his head between his palms as he answered, voice slightly muffled. "That thing in the alley?"

The two in the back exchanged glances and silently agreed to wait out the explanation.

"Yeah?"

"It's not 'that thing in the alley'. It's going to follow the Major back to somewhere... I think she works there... and try again. It's pretty pissed about something, Dean, and it'll kill anything that gets between her and it--or another man and it... I don't know who."

"Sam?"

He shook himself and looked up into his brother's worried face, "I'm OK, Dean."

The colonel decided to hazard a question. "Uh, kids?"

They'd forgotten that they had company.

_Oh, crap._

_xxxx_


	4. Winchester Rule 1

Hmmm... now to make this believable...

Easier said than done.

Help!

xxxx

_Oh, crap._

xxxx

Dean looked at his brother and saw his own expression mirrored back at him. They'd just broken Winchester Rule #1: We do what we do and we shut up about it.

_Now what do we do?_ Sam's eyes asked.

Dean shrugged slightly, shaking his head. _I have no clue._

"Hey, uh, what's going on?" Jack again.

Sam cast a rather desperate glance at his brother as he answered, voice thick and raspy, "That's kind of... complicated."

Jack leaned back and folded his arms. "We've got time. Explain."

Dean growled, "We _don't_ have time for this. I'm taking Sam to the hospital."

"Actually, we have medical facilities on-base," Carter offered from the backseat. "I'm sure Janet could take care of him."

"Right," Jack agreed, "Besides, that way we could get your statements on the attack in the alley. This sort of thing is kinda classified."

The next glance exchanged between brothers spoke volumes. _So they are messing with the supernatural._

"Sam?"

"Dean, I'm fine."

"Yeah, right, kid," Jack snorted, "You're coughing blood."

"Sam." Carter said softly, "Janet can help you and we won't hold you against your will. We just need your statements on what happened in the alley."

It was Dean's turn to snort, "You were attacked by a pissed-off poltergeist. What do you _think_ happened?"

"A what?"

"A poltergeist, sir. Malevolent spirit."

Sam raised his head a little, "Not quite. Spirits can only be in one place at a time. Poltergeists are more of an energy form..." he trailed off, realizing that these two _hadn't_ known. _Crap._

"Someone knows his ghost stories," Jack observed.

Sam shook his head and immediately regretted it. His skull was still pounding, and the movement made the pain spike. "Shit," he groaned.

"Sammy?" alarm.

"Head," he managed, trying to shake off his sudden dizziness.

"Easy, there, tiger," Dean pushed him back with one hand, "Your headaches are nothing to mess with."

"Dude, I'm fine," Sam slapped the hand away.

"Right, Sammy. That's why you're bleeding."

Sam took an experimental breath, didn't cough. "Actually, I'm not. At least, not anymore."

The SG-1 members didn't miss the way Dean's shoulders visibly relaxed when his brother didn't cough. Neither did Sam. "Jerk."

"Bitch."

"I'm not even gonna ask," Jack announced.

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance. _Yup. Redirection still works._ Of course, it probably helped that Sam was obviously in bad shape and eventually they'd be called on it, but hopefully they'd have enough time to come up with a workable story in the meantime.

"So. You gonna take us all back to base, or what?"

Dean hesitated, "Is there a way out of this that won't get us arrested?" he asked.

Jack considered that for a moment, "No."

Dean sighed and started the Impala, then followed Samantha's instructions to get to the base. Once there, they were challenged at the gate.

Jack leaned over the backseat and waved from behind Dean, "It's OK, Turner, they're with me."

"Yes, sir," the man opened the gate with no further protests.

Dean glanced at his brother, concerned. It looked like this 'Jack' guy was waaay up on the command line. The slight nod he got in return said Sam had gotten the same impression.

Dean parked and turned off the Impala. Carter and Jack left the car without further ado, but Sam stayed put. Dean went around to his brother's door and yanked it open. Sam almost fell out, halted only by his seatbelt.

"Dean!"

The older Winchester leaned over and undid his brother's seatbelt, grabbed Sam's shoulder, and started to haul him to his feet without a word.

"Lay off, dude, I'm fine."

Dean snorted, ignoring the fact that both Major and Colonel were watching them closely, "Like hell you are, Sammy. You can't even stand up."

"It's just a headache, Dean. I'm fine."

"Dude, we've been over this. Your headaches are dangerous."

Sam hesitated, pressed his palm to his forehead, and shivered. "Maybe..."

"That mean you're going to let me help you?"

"Yeah, guess so..." Sam struggled to his feet, but accepted Dean's support.

xxxx

_If you read this, please check my profile before reviewing..._


	5. Interrogations don't work on Winchesters

_OK, I should stop putting off the inevitable confrontation... so let's see what happens._

_References to Season 1 episodes of Supernatural_

_Short chapter._

xxxx

"Hey, kids!" Jack called as he entered the infirmary, blinking as he noticed Janet and Carter facing off against Sam and Dean. "Is this a bad time?"

"No, Colonel," Janet replied, somewhat more tersely than he'd expected. "Samuel is simply reluctant to allow me to run any tests."

"Uh-huh. Right. Well, I told the General that they're here and he's, uh, not too happy."

"We're sitting right here, you know," Dean informed Jack.

"Right. See, you two witnessed an event that you really shouldn't have. Catch is, we're not sure what you witnessed."

"How can you not know what we saw? You're the ones messing with stuff you shouldn't be!"

The Winchester boys didn't miss the slight tensing that the SGC people tried to hide.

"How so?" Janet asked, overly calm.

"Carter obviously did _something_ to piss that thing off," Dean pointed out. "Spirits don't get ticked unless someone is messing around."

Sam half-shook his head, raising his hand to his forehead, which sent Dean's internal 'Sammy' alarms jangling.

Sam glanced sideways at his brother, "Dean. I'm fine."

"OK, Sammy, how do you kill a shtriga?"

"Dude, you don't. Unless it's feeding. And it's Sam."

"Hate to break this up and all, but what the heck are you kids talking about?"

The brothers exchanged glances, "Nothing," Dean shrugged slightly, "Just making sure Sam's still all there."

"Gee, thanks." Sam muttered sarcastically.

"No problem, little brother." Dean replied with offhand insolence, seemingly just exchanging banter with Sam while in fact tag-teaming with his brother in a game of psychological warfare against these military-types. The fast pace of the banter kept Colonel, Major, and Doctor off balance, and the reference to the shtriga subtly allowed Sam to know Dean wasn't planning on fighting his way out. Sam's reply had just as unobtrusively said he'd gotten the message, but was willing to try for it if there was no other choice. _That's my boy,_ Dean thought affectionately.

After roughly twenty minutes more of conversation where both parties attempted to pry for more information and neither succeeded, the SGC people withdrew to discuss their new knowledge--or lack thereof--of the Winchester boys.

"What're their names again?" Jack asked, trying and failing to remember a surname.

"Sam and Dean," Carter replied, then she frowned.

Janet caught on in a hurry, her eyes widening slightly as she realized how well they had been manipulated. "They never gave a last name."

"Whoa, there," Jack raised his hands slightly, "You're telling me we just got beat by a couple of kids?"

Sam frowned, nodding slowly, "They know how to redirect and avoid questions without rousing suspicions, sir."

"Either they've had intensive training, or they've been doing this for a very long time," Janet agreed reluctantly.

"So that's a yes?"

"I'm afraid so, sir."

Jack opened his mouth... and shut it again without saying anything. He looked back and forth between the two women and raised his eyebrows, "Wow."

xxxx

_I will have the next chapter posted by Saturday at the latest, with or without reviews, though I'd honestly prefer with._


	6. Hidden Camera

After the SGC people left the room, Sam turned to his brother. "Dude, Dean, 'How do you kill a shtriga?' That's the best you could come up with?"

"You got it, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah, but still..."

Dean cut off the comment, "Seriously, though, Sam. What do you think of them?"

Sam didn't even hesitate in replying, "They're hiding something. Something big--and they're _afraid_ to tell us what," he shifted uncomfortably on the infirmary bed.

Dean didn't miss it. "What?"

The youngest Winchester shook his head slightly, his gaze darting around the room, never staying on one object for more than a fraction of a second, "I don't know, man. I've just got this feeling."

"Well, that's just great," Dean growled sarcastically, then his voice got notably more wary, "What kind of feeling?"

"I just--it reminds me of our old house," Sam blurted.

"That's it," Dean stood abruptly, "We're getting out of here."

Sam shook off his brother's hand, "What the hell are you doing?" he hissed, "We're in the middle of a _military base,_ Dean!"

"I don't care!" Dean snapped back, "Damn it all, Sammy, everything goes after you! The Woman in White, Bloody Mary, Ellicot, hell, our old _house_ tried to kill you! And if it's not enough that you're a target for every supernatural evil thing out there, even those psycho hunters picked you! I'm not risking your neck this time!"

"Dean, if we leave, those people will _die._"

"What do you want me to do, Sammy?" Dean demanded, voice strained nearly to breaking, "'Cus I'm out of ideas. You said it yourself, Sam, this is a military base. They're not going to let us find out enough to stop this thing!"

"I know, but, Dean... I have to try," Sam looked up, his eyes glittering with unshed tears, his voice desperately soft, "It's bad enough to have seen it and know it didn't happen, but... I can't keep doing this, Dean. I can't keep seeing people _die!_"

Dean paced, his motions reminiscent of a caged wolf, "I get that, Sammy, I do. But I just don't know how to help you with this, man! Hell, I don't even know how to help _them_ with this!"

"Just--wait it out, man, please," Sam pleaded, "I have to try."

xxxx

_One hour later:_

Colonel O'Neill looked up from the monitor with a perplexed expression, "What the heck are those kids talking about?"

"I'm not sure, sir," Carter replied, frowning at the screen. The camera in the infirmary had caught the entire conversation on tape, and the only thing she was sure of was that it sounded crazy. Bloody Mary? Woman in White? And what on earth was a shtriga?

"It's a kind of witch, according to Scandinavian legends," Daniel offered.

Carter blinked. She hadn't realized she'd said that out loud.

"What kind of witch?" Jack asked idly, fidgeting with an unattended pen.

"They supposedly eat a person's life force... and there's no way to kill one. I believe that, to quote: 'They cannot be harmed by any weapon made by god or man.'" Daniel pulled off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes with one hand, "What do we know about these people? Aside from that they saved you from an invisible attacker in an alley."

The pen clicked against the counter once, twice, three times before Jack tossed it aside and stood, "Their names are Sam and Dean?"

Daniel glanced from Jack to Carter, "Sam?"

She shook her head, resigned to the fact that they'd been outwitted by a couple of kids. "That, and they have a Chevy Impala and two sawed-off shotguns in their trunk."

"Weeelllll..." Jack drawled, "We could go talk to them again..." He moved towards the door, glancing back at his teammates, "Danny, Carter, you comin'?"

"Yeah, sure, just let me turn this off," Daniel turned to the keyboard and clicked in a few commands before following the Colonel out the door.

The pen that Jack had thrown onto the desk started rolling again, too fast to be normal, and hit the floor to skid off to a shadowed corner, leaving the cap behind.

xxxx

Dean automatically shifted himself to be between his brother and the door as the voices in the hall drew nearer. The door opened, and admitted three people. Jack and Samantha were back, with a taller, blue-eyed, sandy-haired man.

Sam's sharp intake of breath let Dean know something was up, "Sammy?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the three in front of him, his entire body tense as he waited for an answer.

"It's him, Dean. The one I saw with Samantha--Daniel."

Carter glanced sideways at the Colonel, who in turn flicked his gaze towards his linguist. Daniel had a very typically "Danny" look on his face--interest, curiosity, slight wariness.

"Dean, it's all right," Sam offered, standing to lay a hand on his brother's shoulder, "They're hiding something, but they're not going to hurt us."

"It's not them I'm worried about," Dean shot back, even as he let Sam come up beside him, "It's the damned thing that's _after_ them that bugs me."

Jack started to open his mouth, but Daniel, being the diplomat that he was, tried to warn him off.

Jack was oblivious, "What the hell are you kids talking about?" he demanded, using his military-tone.

To the surprise of the SGC people, including Janet, who came to her office door to watch, the boys straitened and stood at something like attention. "There is something wrong, here, sir," Dean replied quickly.

Sam shook his head, "Dean!" he hissed, "This isn't Dad!"

"You said it was after them, didn't you?" Dean shot back.

"Look, we know something's going on," Jack started, but Daniel broke in.

"What are you talking about?"

The brothers exchanged glances and came to a mutual agreement. Dean tilted his head a little and Sam nodded slightly.

"Just remember:" Dean commanded, "_You asked._"

xxxx

_I almost hate to leave it off like this, but I do have work to do on other things. Sorry!_


	7. Like I'll believe THAT

xxxx

"So," Jack leaned nonchalantly against the wall near 'Sam's' bed. "You expect us to _believe_ any of that crap?"

Sam didn't answer past dropping his head to his hands and cradling it there with a low gasp.

"Sammy?" Cold dread coiled in the pit of Dean's stomach. No way could Sam handle another vision so soon after the last two.

Sam shook himself and raised his head, "Dammit! I can't even _think_ about leaving them for this thing without--" he cut off abruptly, realizing he may have just said a little more than he'd intended.

Dean assured himself that his brother was all right before turning to answer the Colonel's question, "I don't give a rat's ass whether or not you believe us," he informed coldly, "but I'll be damned before I let this thing hurt Sammy."

"Dude, get it right. It's Sam."

"Yeah, whatever, bitch. These idiots want to get themselves killed, I say let 'em."

SG-1 personnel exchanged wary glances.

"Not gonna work, Dean. Every time I think of leaving, I get these flashes--"

"Flashes?" Janet came forth from her self-imposed exile near the door, "What kind of flashes, Samuel?"

"It's Sam." Sam and Dean said in unison, then Sam shrugged uncomfortably.

"You heard the lady, Sammy, what kind of flashes?"

Sam overlooked the 'Sammy' and answered reluctantly, "Just--flashes. That freaky stone circle with the symbols and some kind of energy field that looks like water in it... Samantha and Daniel getting-" he paused to swallow, paling slightly as he altered what he'd been going to say, "-killed in that office or library or whatever it is--" his voice cut off completely as the little remaining color drained from his face, "Oh, god."

Dean half-expected the doc-lady to say something about hallucinations, but instead she--and the other military people--merely looked alarmed. The kind of alarm that he or Sam might get when someone inadvertently found out what they did for a living. The _'busted'_ look. But that could wait.

"Sammy?"

"I'm OK. I'm fine."

"Like hell you are, Sammy. Maybe we should call Missouri. Get some answers."

To Dean's surprise, and ultimately horror, Sam raised bloodshot, weary eyes to meet his own. "I already asked, Dean. We have to figure this out on our own."

xxxx

_To any _Stargate: SG-1_ fans out there: I think I need some help with the SG-1 characters, pre-fifth season. Seeing as how I sadly never got past the fourth... though I'm working on it. The things that spending four years in a year-round boarding school can do to you... even if it _was_ one of the best experiences of my life..._

_Suggestions, good! I like suggestions. And I admit it! I can't leave this story alone!_

_Just out of curiosity, would I get more reviews if I threatened not to post chapters?_


	8. What are THEY doing on my base?

_OK! No need for threats. And, for the record, I wasn't threatening last time. I was asking as to the effectiveness of threats. There is--or should be--a difference._

_And I know I said I'd have something up by Saturday, but I ran into technical difficulties. I don't know _what_ happened, but my computer... well, it's seriously screwed up. Right now I'm using my Dad's computer, which has limited availability at best, so please bear with me as I attempt to keep writing._

_One more thing: No one's done it yet, but please no referring to Season 2 episodes of Supernatural in reviews. I can't watch it when it is on, so I have to (grr) wait until it comes out on DVD. Which is going to be quite a while..._

xxxx

"What's in Missouri?" Daniel beat Jack to the question.

Once again, the SGC people were forgotten, or at least ignored, while the boys had a 'family' conversation. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Dean growled. Missouri was a freakin' psychic! How could she not be able to help?

"I know, Dean, and believe me, I asked. I strait up asked what was happening to me, and she _doesn't know._"

"So, there's nothin' we can do about this right now."

"Right." Sam rubbed a hand over his face with a weary sigh and shook his bangs out of his face.

"All right, then," Dean turned to their less-than-willing hosts. "So, Sammy," he began conversationally, staring at Jack O'Neill with disturbing intensity, "About this stone circle thing with the energy field. Any ideas as to what it does?"

Sam dropped his hands to his lap, "Dude, it was a vision and I didn't exactly see it in use. All I've got are guesses."

"Fine. What _might_ it be for?" Sarcasm tinted the query.

Sam glanced at his brother, then back out to the tense military personnel, "I'm not exactly sure, but I think it's some kind of long-range transport device." The caution he was sensing in the SGC people revved to full-out alarm.

Dean saw the tensing and exchanged glances, "Well, then. I'd say you're right, Sam. Not bad, geek-boy."

"So, are you going to tell us what you're doing here, or just stare like we're some kind of freaks?"

Dean glanced back at his brother and flashed a grin, "Looks like I'm rubbing off on you, little brother."

_Yeah, that or my 'Shining' is starting to include empathy _and_ telepathy._ Which actually wouldn't surprise him, seeing as how he always knew when there was a seriously pissed-off spirit in the house. Thinking of which, the one on base was getting closer.

Jack gave the question due consideration before compromising. "I'll just... call the General."

xxxx

General Hammond was not happy when he arrived--and with good reason. He had two people who--even if they hadn't been _told_ anything--somehow knew too much about what was going on at Stargate Command. Not only that, they were actually _on base._

And Colonel Jack O'Neill had brought them.

"You'd better have a damn good explanation for this, Colonel," Hammond all but growled when he entered the infirmary.

"Ah, yes, sir," Jack stuttered, caught a little by surprise. The General was _not_ someone to mess with... even if you _were_ his second-in-command.

The boys behind him exchanged glances and barely suppressed grins. Looked like Jack was less than eloquent when faced by his superior's wrath.

"Sir," Carter said suddenly, addressing the General, "We were attacked by... something invisible, and these two helped us out."

Jack sent the Major a grateful look.

"Something invisible?" Hammond's attention immediately turned to the indication of alien activity, "I want a full report."

"Yes, sir," the two chorused, about to start explaining.

Sam stopped that attempt dead in its tracks, "Dean, tell me you've got something!"

All members of the SGC were so surprised by the sudden outburst that they turned to look at the boy.

"Dude, Sam, _military base?_" It took the older brother about half a second to realize what that demand meant; "Sam?"

The look on Sam's face was enough of an explanation for his brother.

"Oh, shit."

xxxx

_Again, I apologize for the delay. Over Christmas, I had no access to a computer from which I could update. I'm now trying to get back into the flow of my stories, as the break was less than relaxing and afforded little time to work on plotlines and ideas._

_My inspiration has faded and I must now go on a quest to recover it._


	9. Why's it after YOU?

_Well... finishing up chapter nine, although it wasn't really as long as I'd hoped... Here._

xxxx

"Oh, shit."

The words had scarcely left Dean's mouth before a tray of medical implements upended itself and small objects shot through the air at Carter and Daniel, ignoring everyone else.

The two startled scientists dove out of the way.

"What the--" The colonel moved on reflex, attempting to protect _his_ team--

"Sam!" Dean moved to shield Daniel, accepting the hail of metal with his forearms, wondering why this thing was using penlights and thermometers as weapons instead of something that packed a bit more punch. "Any ideas?"

"What is going on here!?" the General bellowed, ducking as a scalpel shot past his shoulder on a strait path towards Carter.

She grabbed a now-empty steel tray and brought it around like a shield--the scalpel clanged of and came back around.

"Just one!" the younger Winchester didn't really have any ideas as to what might work, so started the first exorcism ritual that came to mind.

For a brief moment, all flying objects froze in the air, then they arched away from their former targets and headed for Dean's little brother.

He dropped into a shoulder-roll to avoid the onslaught, ignoring confused and alarmed shouts, somewhat encouraged by the fact that the whatever-it-was felt threatened by the Latin chant.

Then 'it' got serious. The heavy, wheeled gurney that it had retrieved the med-tools from began to roll--and Sam wasn't in a good position to dodge.

He sped up the chant, hoping to finish before the gurney got too close, and rolled sideways, rising to a crouch and attempting to get out of the way.

From across the room, Dean saw he wouldn't make it in time--"Sam!"

And the little brother finished the ritual a half-second before the rolling metal table hit him.

No one could quite see what happened as a blast of blue-white energy tore through the room, but by the time it cleared, Sam was levering himself up, looking only slightly dazed, and various medical implements clattered to the floor.

"Sam!" Dean was suddenly at his brother's side, checking for injuries with a practiced gaze, "You OK, bro?"

Sam shook his head slightly and lost most of the dazed look, "Yeah. Just a few bruises..."

"Did it work?"

"What the _hell_ was that about!?" Jack demanded.

"Good question," Dean shot back, "Mind explaining?" His angry glare landed on Samantha and Daniel.

Daniel was a bit thrown by the past half-minute, and snapped right back. "How should _I_ know? You're the ones that got rid of it." He paused, "How _did _you get rid of it?"

"Yeah, well, you're the ones who pissed it off," Dean pointed out, ignoring the second question, "I mean, it was only after the two of you."

The General looked back and forth between the arguing people and decided to wait it out. With any luck, he'd get some answers without having to pry for them himself.

"It didn't get rid of it," Sam spoke up suddenly, again throwing off the conversation.

"Then what _did_ it do? They're not being accosted by penlights anymore," Dean pointed out.

Sam snickered slightly, "I didn't know your vocabulary included that word."

"Shut up, college boy."

Sam sighed, "Fine. It banished the thing from this room and weakened it a bit, but I also _really_ pissed it off. I think I've been added to the hit-list..."

"Great. That's just frickin' _great_."

xxxx

"Sir?" Carter asked, slightly puzzled at the General's proposition.

"They obviously know something we don't. I'm not going to risk this base or this planet on our ability to stop this thing. Those boys may be the only chance we've got."

Various murmurs of agreement circulated the room.

"Good. Dr. Jackson, I want you and Major Carter to help those boys in any way you can. Colonel O'Neil, you and Teal'c head back to that planet and photograph anything that might be writing from that room. Dismissed."

_xxxx_

The two scientists convened with Sam and Dean in the infirmary, puzzled by the boys' insistence that it was the safest place.

"Look, I basically locked it out of this room," Sam explained for what felt like the thousandth time, "And three of us are on it's list of things to kill. So this is the safest place we can be for now."

"Yes, but how do you know that?" Carter pressed, scientist to the core.

Sam cast Dean a 'help me' sort of look, but Dean just grinned at him. "It's kind of... a family thing?"

Dean snickered, "Yeah, right, Haley Joel."

"Will you _quit_ with the psychic comments, already!?"

"Sure. When you stop with the visions and spoon-bending."

"Once. Once, Dean. I used telekinesis _once._"

"Yeah, well... it sure could come in handy if you learned how to control it..."

Seam growled, "Dean... for all we know I could have just... _borrowed_ it from Max..."

Dean blinked, "I never thought of that."

Carter and Daniel exchanged glances, then Carter cleared her throat. "Can we get back on track, here?"

"Sure thing," Dean turned back to the SGC scientists, "What are you two doing that doesn't involve anyone else?"

Daniel's glasses came off as he pinched the bridge of his nose, a habitual gesture when he was both distracted and thinking. "Um. Well..."

xxxx

_I'm still running shy on inspiration. Any and all suggested reading from Stargate: SG-1 and Supernatural season 1 where characters are kept 'in character' would be greatly appriciated. I can use the help._

_Also, suggestions and/or corrections would not be taken amiss. This chapter included--I have no qualms about revising it. I have no Beta... unless you include fish... and the fish isn't very helpful..._


	10. Grim Reapers?

_xxxx_

Carter picked up the story, "Nothing... really. We've just been going through some of the artifacts that were brought over from PX3-2589."

At the boys' blank looks, Daniel elaborated, "Another planet. I was thinking about cross-referencing the local lore against some old Earth legends, to see if there were any blatant similarities. We were drawing a blank when Sam had to leave..."

"So... you were messing around with ritual artifacts?" Sam asked, frowning.

"Dude, that's usually not a good idea," Dean agreed. "Any idea what you pissed off?"

Daniel shook his head, "The writing was in ancient Latin. I haven't had time to translate everything, yet."

Dean thought that one over and glanced at his little brother, "So, Sammy. How's your Latin?"

Sam snorted, "Better than yours."

Dean replied with something highly uncomplimentary... in ancient Latin.

Sam responded in kind and Daniel was caught between shock that these two even knew the language (he'd assumed that the exorcism was simply memorized words), awe at the amazing fluency they showed with it, and amused horror at the use they put it to.

Carter looked so confused that he couldn't help it. He gave a strangled snicker as he struggled to keep from laughing out loud. "They're, ah..." he choked at a particularly vulgar phrase, "Insulting each other in Latin..."

"Right. Anyway... can you get the things you were messin' around with brought here, or do we have to go there?"

Sam shook his head slightly, "It's... it's still weak, right now. It might be better to go there and 'lock' that room, too."

Dean grunted noncommittally. "You're the psychic..."

"Shut up, jerk."

"Yeah, whatever." A beat. "Bitch."

Daniel started and Carter frowned, remembering the exchange in the car earlier.

Sam seemed to understand the misgivings. "This is normal," he assured the two scientists.

"Dude, Sam, we don't _do_ 'normal'."

Daniel shook his head slightly, "Right."

Carter had a slightly different reaction. "Just... what _are_ you?"

"Hunters." Dean's answer was prompt and to the point.

Sam elaborated, "That's what we call people like us. We hunt things... all the things that no one else believes in."

"Such as?"

"Vengeful spirits, werewolves, demons... you name it, we've probably hunted it."

"Grim Reapers?" Jack asked from the doorway, sounding sarcastic.

Sam and Dean exchanged glances, "Well..."

"Not exactly..."

"The one run-in we've had with a Reaper..." Sam hesitated, glancing at his brother.

"It's not one of our proudest moments," Dean finished.

"The Grim Reaper's _real?_" Jack sputtered, "I was joking!"

"Well, Reapers--there's more than one--aren't robed skeletons with scythes, that's for sure." Dean shuddered, "You can only see the damn things while they're coming for you... and that's not an experience I'd care to repeat."

"Anyway," Sam butted in, not wanting to go over one of the few hunts his brother had regretted in the end, "What are you doing here, Colonel?"

"Just checking up on the kids before heading offworld to take more pictures of Danny's rocks."

"Artifacts, Jack," Daniel sighed.

"Yeah, well... what am I looking for?"

"The statue of Mertseger with the Latin--the one that I thought was odd because it's Egyptian but has writing form a few thousand years later on it?"

"You mean the snakey-looking thing?"

"Yeah, that one."

"OooK. Yeah. Sure. You betcha. Bye." Jack waved jauntily as he left the room.

Sam and Dean eyed the closed door for a few moments longer, then Sam glanced at his brother. "I'll go with Daniel to wherever they're keeping the research if you'll get some supplies from the car with Samantha."

Dean shrugged, "You're the geek."

"Yeah. Thanks." The sarcasm was evident.

"What am I going for, Psychic Wonder?"

"Dean," Sam groaned, "Will you knock it off? Standard junk, I guess, rock salt, crossroad dirt, hyssop, the herbs Missouri gave us... Dad's journal..."

"The usual for a cleansing, huh?"

"Binding, actually. This thing isn't pinned down."

"Right..." Dean eyed his little brother for a moment, then shook his head, "I don't even _want_ to know what's going on in that freaky head of yours."

Sam half-glared, "Nice. Thanks. And we'd better make this quick, because our invisible friend is getting stronger."

"Right," Dean cut the commentary and headed topside with his 'military escort' while Sam and Daniel headed for Daniel's office.

_xxxx_

_So. Any suggested reading in either Stargate or Supernatural fandoms would be helpful... I need inspiration, people, or this will take me FOREVER!_


	11. Opened Boxes

_xxxx_

Sam started looking around a room that had obviously never been intended as an office and even now—despite the title—looked more like a library during a research fit than anything else. There were books _everywhere._

The youngest Winchester was tempted to grab a few and start reading, but he knew there wasn't enough time for that. The pervasive sense of unease, of _wrongness,_ that accompanied a particularly malicious spirit was growing subtly stronger.

He watched Daniel enter, scan the room, and move unerringly towards a particularly wobbly-looking column, then somehow snatch a book from near the middle without knocking anything over.

The archaeologist glanced back over his shoulder at Sam, who was picking his way through the mess with a shade more grace than his lanky frame suggested. "We don't have the artifact in here," he explained, "but I needed to grab this."

Sam nodded, "Is there any chance we'll need to get back in here later?"

"Yeah, probably," Daniel frowned, "Is that a problem?"

"Not if we're careful—hey, you got a marker?"

"Yeah, right here," Daniel poked through his desk and came up with a Sharpie.

"Thanks," Sam snatched it and moved back to the door, uncapping it as he went. He started to write something on the back of the heavy door.

Daniel came closer, eying the action with interest. "What's that?"

"Ofuda. I picked it up from a dorm-mate I had in collage. It's not very strong, so it won't hold up under an all-out attack, but it should make it safer in here than it is out there. We'll need something a lot better for wherever you're keeping this artifact."

"Right. Well, I've got everything," Daniel cast one last quick glance around the room. "Aren't ofuda supposed to be written with charcoal ink on rice paper?"

"Traditionally, yes," Sam passed the pen back to its owner absently, "but it's really the symbol and intent that matter, not the materials."

Daniel shook his head in mute amazement. These boys took the symbolism and superstitions he's been researching for years and altered them to be applied practically against things that shouldn't exist. If only it were so simple to thwart Goa'uld.

_xxxx_

Carter stared in amazed shock at the sheer number of weapons in the trunk of that Impala. They had everything from handguns to machetes in that thing and Dean handled each as though he not only knew how to use them, but had learned while fighting for his life.

The young man was currently sliding a sawed-off shotgun and several handfuls of rock-salt ammunition into a duffle, which he quickly followed up with various herbs and small items she couldn't identify. He finished off by tossing in a can of salt and a silver bottle with a cross stamped on it before picking up something that looked like a small Super-Soaker and checking to make sure it was filled.

He caught the odd look and shrugged with a wry half-smile. "Never know when Holy Water'll come in handy." He closed the secret compartment and Carter, who had just watched it shut, couldn't quite figure out where it was. "Wow."

"So," Dean swung the duffle over his left shoulder and rested his squirtgun comfortably across his chest, "Major. What's this about 'other planets' that the colonel was going on about?"

_xxxx_

Sam whistled in amazed dismay when his eyes landed on Dr. Jackson's 'artifact'. Apparently, the man's Ancient Latin was rusty, because it had about four warnings against moving it on the lid alone, and another two or three against _opening_ it… well. At least it didn't _look_ like it had been opened.

Wait—not _opened_, per say, but… there was a hairline crack between the lid and the rest of the box, right along a closed-in pentacle symbol with a carefully inscribed binding spell.

"Crap," Sam commented. "Well, now we're sure of where your stalker came from. Now all we need to do is figure out what it is and how to stop it."

_xxxx_

"I believe this is the statue that Daniel Jackson was referring to," Teal'c's voice broke across the silent clearing. The coiled Egyptian cobra seemed doubly out of place in the Latin ruin surrounded by soft grassy plants.

Jack walked a circuit around the thing, staring at it in a puzzled manner. "Weird."

Teal'c quirked an eyebrow at O'Neill's assessment. "Indeed."

_xxxx_

_I just thought I should let everyone know that I have _not_ abandoned this story, although I will admit to a lingering lack of inspiration. I will continue to work on it, however. If anyone has good, in-character reading for me in the Stargate (Preferably early seasons) or Supernatural fandoms, I'd be grateful._


	12. Black Salt and Hyssop

_xxxx_

"Dean!" Sam turned towards the door before his brother had even opened it, glad he was finally there. "I need Dad's journal," he finished as the door cracked open.

Dean stood in the doorway for several seconds, blinking. "O… K. Sure. Did you put some kind of psychic tracker on me when I wasn't looking?"

"Dean," Sam sighed, taking the proffered leather book, "You're my brother. If you're within ten yards, I _know._"

"Right." Dean spent another moment eyeing his brother skeptically, ignoring the two who were watching in bemusement. "So, what d'ya need me to do?"

"Did Missouri send Black Salt?"

"Uh…" Dean pulled out the bag that the psychic had given them and opened it, "I don't see any."

Sam sighed sharply, raising a hand to his forehead. "All right, all right. Hyssop?"

"Yeah—wait. How can you possibly substitute _hyssop_ for _Black_ _Salt?_"

"You can't, Dean," Sam gave his brother a look that said that was the stupidest question he'd ever heard. "It's an entirely different ritual."

The elder Winchester blinked, then shrugged. "OK. Sure. Now what?"

Sam paged through the journal and flipped it around, presenting a carefully illustrated page to his brother and indicating the text underneath the diagram. "You need to set this up, but be careful. I've locked it out of this room and if the three of us," he indicated himself and the two confused SG-1 scientists, "Go to Daniel's office, we should get the thing's attention off of you for long enough."

Dean didn't like it and Sam _knew_ he didn't like it, but broad shoulders slumped in resignation. He wouldn't protest.

Dean grabbed the journal and arranged everything he would need, "Does it matter where?"

Sam shook his head, ignoring the muted voices of Samantha and Daniel in the background, "The hall is fine, so long as you keep people from walking over it."

A slight nod followed and Sam moved for the door, ushering the two (mildly protesting) scientists towards the door.

Dark eyes gave him pause as he reached for the handle.

"Sam... be careful."

Sam gave his brother a reassuring smile before vanishing with his two self-assigned charges.

_xxxx_

Jack snapped a final picture of the statue with a flourish that was not only completely unnecessary, but likely detrimental to the quality of the photo. Fortunately, it was a distance shot he was taking that really wasn't going to be useful for Daniel's translations at all.

"I believe we are finished, O'Neill," Teal'c's voice cut across the rubble-strewn 'clearing'.

The man almost, _almost_ pouted. "But I was just starting to have fun!"

"Indeed," Teal'c kept his face expressionless despite a stirring of amusement for the Colonel's childish antics. He deeply respected O'Neill, both as a person and as a warrior, but there was no denying that the man had a penchant for practical jokes and occasional childish behavior. "We should return to Earth so that Daniel Jackson may find a way to rid the base of our unseen visitor."

Jack blinked, "Right. Let's go do that."

_xxxx_

_A short chapter—although all the chapters in this story are short—and I have an admission. I'm not really pulling up a bunch of inspiration; I could use someone to bounce ideas off of. Anybody willing to put up with that?_


	13. Chapter 13

_This story is currently 'On Hold' pending revision—when I have time. I'm afraid, between work and recent upheaval and illness (in that order) I haven't had a whole bunch of combined time and inspiration to write. But I have decided that this story needs a little tweaking. Each chapter will be replaced as it is revised, and a notice will be put up in the summery when a chapter is posted, as replacing chapters within the story does not put up a 'chapter alert'._


End file.
